


'Cause there's nothing else to do

by Hana_Midori



Category: Gintama
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7063978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hana_Midori/pseuds/Hana_Midori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless PWP with my favourite blue ninja. Intruders should know better than to attack in a full moon’s night.  You know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Cause there's nothing else to do

Intruders should know better than to attack in a full moon’s night. It is Hattori Zenzou’s first thought when he hears a noise in the first floor of his house. His father’s house. He reminds himself. This was not his home, this empty shell has never been his home. True ninjas had no homes, just well structured facades, just well told lies. That’s all.

He stood up leaving the comfort of a futon behind, no need to make it easy for the bastards. How many were this time? Two, three? A whole squad? If they had reached the building without setting off any of the new garden tramps. It could only mean they were good. He smiled. The adrenaline started to pump through his veins, the rush of the unknown, the lust for the fight. In his mind they were few things as good as not having to hold back in a fight. A night of fun with fuglies in Yoshiwara… yeah that was a nice feeling too, but not really close. A well developed final arc for a manga you’ve been following for more than ten years. A bit closer, yes, but still not the same..

He considered his options for a moment. Behind the second panel of the room where he’d been resting was a hidden passage to reach a secret duct. If he wanted the only thing he had to do now was to leave the house through it. You can’t kill something if you can’t find it first. He could also wait patiently for the intruders to reach the room and attack them by surprise. What were they looking for and who had sent them seemed as the sensitive questions to be answered, but he had never been much of the sensitive guy. No, tonight at least he wanted the sparring first and the answers later. Corpses told much less lies than prisoners, anyway. 

So with that thought in mind he used the narrowed passage to left the room and to cross the internal yard. Quietly. No need to advertise his own position, but not as quietly as he could be if he really would want to be quietly. In his mind he could almost picture the face of a little lilac girl rolling her eyes at him in annoyance. “Now would be exactly the right time to use your skills, big head.” And he would grin at her of course, because what the little girl could never see is. It is the plan or at least a good part of the plan. He’s no fool and he’s of course listening with care. Home or not home, he knew this place better than anyone and taking him by real surprise was not an easy task. 

The intruders are trying their best to avoid making noises, but he can tell they had headed by the service buildings. The bathhouse and the kitchen are there. What could be their plan? Poison his food?. Stealing it? The memory of a White Samurai and his children makes him cringe his nose. No. It can’t be them this time around he tells himself, but as he sees the white smoke of fire leaving the roof of the service buildings he kind of ditches his fighting pose. What did they want this time? Now would be a wonderful moment to run for his own peaceful life before it will be dragged and drain into a family soap-opera, but he’s also a brave man and running away is not really his style.

Closer now he can tell the thin smoke line in the sky comes from the bathhouse and not from the kitchen, as it was his first impression. He can also tell, there are not multiple intruders inside, either. It’s only one and a hunch tells him he knows her a little too much. From all the bloody places in this town, did she really need to pick up this particular bathhouse? He hates the speed his thoughts go from moderate annoyance to deep concern when she’s involved. Is she hurt? The black stains on the floor seems to confirm his hypothesis so without thinking it twice he hurries himself inside.

“Is not my blood,” is her greeting. He hates how she knows him this well to depict his entire train of thoughts without even turn her face around. 

The lights are off, but there is enough moonlight coming through the shoji panels to see her there. Sat upon a small stool rubbing off the dark stains from her arms. Her hair is tied up in a curvy ponytail that suits gracefully all her other feminine curves. There is something incredible enticing into seeing with your own eyes, what normally is concealed. She’s a pale blue silhouette with silvery accents in all the right places. Ghost. No. Dream material. He thinks and for a fraction of a second there he wonders if he never left his futon. He takes one step further, just to test it.

“It wasn’t my intention to woke you up,” her voice is neutral, but all her corporal posture stiffened from head to toe. It’s a warning. The code of courtesy of a feral animal. A dangerous wounded feral animal he corrects himself. Too bad he never learned to reach for the safer place in the face of danger. He takes another step further.

“I was on my way to visit Gin-chan, because as the perfect boyfriend that he is, he’s always there for me, but…” 

He can hear the name of the bloody samurai on her lips is just a bluff, a growl, a defense mechanism. He’s sure of it. That’s what it has to be. She’s been rubbing the same spot on her left arm for too long. She’s in pain. There are always stains harder to take out from your head than from your body. He can read her too. He can see now exactly the kind of injury she suffered tonight. Defeat. 

“... but then I thought Gin-chan would be scared for me, if he saw all this blood so I had to take a bath first and then…” 

Another slap. She can do an entire mantra with that name and tonight it would not work to hide her naked soul. Or, her naked body for what matters. Did she fail to kill or to protect? It was pointless to ask. Someone. More than one someone. Judging for the amount of blood on Sarutobi’s discarded clothes had died. And there was no way to fix that. No soothing words that will make it all better in the morning. No next time around to mend up things. 

“... then your house was closer and I just assumed it wouldn’t be so bad if I used the bathhouse. I’ll, I’ll clean everything when I finish here.”

He takes the piece of cloth from her right hand. She had finished cleaning her body a while ago, her spirit on the other hand is still dark. He wets the piece of cloth on fresh water and brushes with it her right arm all the way up to her shoulder, to her neck, and all the way down to her back. She knows as well as he does that it is incredible pointless to dwell into remorse and self-pity, that’s why she’s trying so hard to hold herself together, but he knows, as well as she knows, it is just one of those thing better said than done. He’s repeating the same soft action with her left arm when she turns around to face him.

“Where were you? Where was the best trained man of the Oniwabanshu when his pals were being murdered?” A pure spite of venom from the bottom of her heart to his, the precise mixture between desperately need and hateful contempt. It didn’t took him completely by surprise, but it hurted him all the same. There was not even a little bit of regret in her eyes just pure rage, with him for not being there, with herself for needing him there, for needing him now. 

In another day, in another place his reply would be, he wouldn’t care less. Whatever was left of the Oniwabanshu, the handful of stupid losers that still remained, were her responsibility now and not his, but here tonight, with her so close, so wet, so damn naked and so painfully broken, there was no point pretending he didn’t bleed when he was cut. When she was the one buring the knife through his guts. So he kisses her fully on the lips then with all of his own anger, his own despair and his need of being punished for his sins.

She hits him and scratches him on the shoulders, as she returns his kisses, as she returns his bites. She wants to push him away as much as she wants to get him closer. He understands the contradiction, because that’s exactly how he feels. 

If you needed so bad to get laid, why didn’t you go with your precious samurai. 

He pulls hard then from the elastic in her hair breaking it and making her hair fall in an explosion upon her shoulders. Her legs lock around his waist rocking shameless in need for his cock. 

If he’s so perfect and so right why aren’t you in his arms but mine. 

His hands go to her buttocks but behind her knees controlling completely the pace of her rocking. Mocking. Teasing her raw desperation. Their eyes meet, but he’s sure it’s the cold grin in his mouth what makes her panic. In a fluid motion she untangles her legs from his body and pushes him away. He barely avoids falling backwards by catching her wrist. 

Please, please let me have you, just one more time. 

In all fours now. He stops any advance. His right hand is open and up, but he still doesn’t let go of her right wrist. When she looks up again at his eyes. He pulls softly from her arm. Softly, really softly until her fingers are upon his face and upon his lips where he starts to kiss each one of them in turns.

I’ll beg if you want me to do so, but I know you want it as bad as I do. 

Slowly he releases his grip. He’s no monster. He’ll never take anything she doesn’t want to give. That was his promise then. That is his promise here. She has to remember. She has to know.

 

When she doesn’t run away he takes one of her feet up into his hands and lifting her leg he kisses the tip of her toe. She smiles a genuine silly smile that like a thunder is upon her face for less than a fraction of a second. It’s all the encouragement he needs to go for the rest of her. It’s all the encouragement she needs to pull off of his yukata. It’s all the encouragement they need to kiss, to lick, to bite each other’s mouths.

You haven’t forgotten how good it feels. Either.

He’s more than ready. She’s more than ready. When he’s going to enter her. She turns around in all fours. 

Oh, yes, she loves that position. 

Who the hell is he kidding. He loves that position. A brush, a rub at her entrance and it’s all the way to reach their steady rhythm. 

Her hair moves like a whip when she turns around to see him, first turning her head upon her left shoulder, later upon her right one. He knows all about this particular little trick of hers. From the moment when they both read and mock about it in a naughty magazine of his father, to the first time she tried to use it in a ‘practical’ situation, to now. He’s not surprised at all she had mastered it to this degree of naturality. 

He presses her down, she arches back, making those little noises he loves so much. Their bodies lower a little only to be higher again. His hands go through her navel, through her sex, through her tits, through her mouth. Her hands go from the floor through the back of his neck, through his buttocks for support. She scratches him, she caresses him, she scratches him again, making him grunt, making him gasp. It’s a dance they know well enough not to have to worry about the precise steps.

They fall to the wet floor and roll. Once, twice. Being the little neat freak that he is. He’ll be all worries about it later, but right now. Right now, he keeps fucking her there, feeling her skin getting warmer and warmer with his embrace despite of the cold floor. Her moans. Their moans getting louder. There is nothing as good as not having to hold back with a lover in his book. To hell with the idea of quiet ninja sex. She rolls their bodies again in the other direction until she’s the one on top, until she’s the one sitting upon him. Directing the rocking of their bodies, directing the pace of the orgasms that are going to shake her body at any moment now. And he grins and grins even more with each one of the spontaneous shakes of her body and the little adjustments she makes to keep rocking him. Yes. It is pride what he feels, he can’t deny it. It’s the pride of knowing another living creature this much. This intimately. 

He comes too, inside of her and it’s one of the best mind blowing scores of his life. He curls to one side then, scooping her limp body in a protective gesture as she tries her best to hide the fact that she’s sobbing. As he tries his best to ignore the fact that she’s sobbing.

He’s not in love with this woman. He tells himself.  
This heavy burden on his chest. That’s not how love feels like. It’s just the way sex feels with a well trained partner. The adrenaline drain. Not that he has ever been in love with anyone. Not than a high skilled ninja like himself has the time to test that particular kind of weakness. 

What the hell is she talking about when she declares her love for the Yorozuya? He really doesn’t know. If it is her way to spy on the poor guy or if she’s crazy enough to have fallen for the guy. He can’t tell. And even more important. It’s not his god damn business to tell. 

What he could tell was that tonight she was good. Tonight he was good too. They were really good sparring companions together. She needed it. He needed it. And that… that was the end and the extension of what it was.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Saa-chan. My best wishes of over dramatic orgasms are with you today.


End file.
